


The Ice that Never Thaws

by Squiggle_Stories



Series: Listen Carefully my Children for this is a Song of Ice and Fire [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Wargs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 12:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18620428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squiggle_Stories/pseuds/Squiggle_Stories
Summary: Basically, a big Ice Dragon saves Danny's ass.My version of the Battle of Winterfell, the battle for the Dawn, or whatever you want to call it.This will likely not be in the show, but it's cool and I enjoyed writing it so that's good enoughgod this summary is awful, I haven't given it much thought, same for most of this story, the idea just popped into my head,





	The Ice that Never Thaws

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is being written between the releases of S8Ep2 and Ep3 so if any of this is right, I fucking called it, however unlikely a big fuck off Ice dragon swooping down from the clouds and killing Viserion again is, I called it.  
> So Ice dragons exist in canon. Are we clear on that? Good. Do we all know who The Night’s King is, the Lord Commander of the night’s watch from the age of heroes, not the angry ice dude from the show, he’s important for chapter 2.

Viserion had always been the fastest of her children, a fact that was biting them in the ass now. Danny held onto Drogon’s back for dear life as the dragons swirled and danced in the sky above Winterfell, spitting flame and snapping at each other, like they had done as they played when they were smaller, only now there was malice in those jets of flame, Drogon was aiming for his brother, not just trying to stun him. Viserion’s own chilling blue flames roared dangerously close to Danny’s head.  
Drogon soared into the clouds, trying to lose Viserion only for the other dragon to catch up, both would dive and Drogon, would again, try to get behind his brother. It was on one of these ascents that Danny spotted it, a huge shadow in the clouds, it was distinctly a dragon’s silhouette, banking into a turn, but it wasn’t a silhouette Danny recognized, for one it was huge, easily four times Drogon’s size, possibly five, but apart from that, it seemed more angular, the wings were a different shape, they weren’t as fat as Drogon’s but, proportionally, they had a greater wingspan. Before Danny could get a better look at it, Drogon dived again, clearly unperturbed by the presence of the dragon.  
The next time Drogon took her into the clouds, the beast was nowhere to be seen, but before Drogon could ascend again, there was a loud ear-splitting roar, unlike anything Danny had heard before, it chilled her to the bone, it seemed as the temperature of the air had dropped another few degrees beyond what it was already, looking back, Danny half expected to see the call had come from Viserion, the Whitewalker’s influence had perverted her son in ways Danny could not comprehend, but her vision was drawn by a blur, the dragon from before shot from the clouds, it collided with Viserion, taking the undead dragon on a collision course with the ground. Drogon dived after them, landing next to them, spitting fire at the undead hordes that surrounded them.  
The absence of clouds gave Danny a better look at the beast, it was as white as snow, it truly was huge, taking up almost all of Danny’s field of view, considering the increased size the dragon had a longer, more slender body than Danny’s own dragons its wingspan was truly huge, Drogon’s own could fit into one of its wings. It had a strange aura of cold around it, that unnerved Danny. The air seemed to condense around its body, falling as a mist to the ground. On it’s back sat a figure cloaked entirely in black, hood pulled over its head. The figure was sat in a leather dragon saddle, held in place by great chains.  
When the dragon spread its wings to take off again, Viserion lay quite still on the ground, his head torn from his body. It saddened Danny to see her son like that, but it was surely better than staring into the blue eye’s that had once belonged to the dragon, now belonged to the Night King. Drogon lifted off after the dragon other, coming level with it once it started to hover in the sky.  
The rider of the Ice dragon raised his head to Danny, a black scarf concealing most of his face, the hood having slid backwards during the dragon’s take off, all Danny could see of the man ware a set of bright blue eyes that were strikingly similar to their enemy’s, and a mess of hair as black as night and an Iron crown sitting atop his head.  
“Go,” he said, his voice carried wisdom, but not the chill that the Whitewalker’s own had, this man, while he clearly had features of the enemy was not of their kind. “Help your kin,” he nodded to Godswood, Rheagal was perched on the walls surrounding it, fire pouring from his mouth, his rider absent from his back, Danny hoped Jon was inside the wood, and not among the dead.  
Danny urged Drogon down, the black dragon swooped down and landed on the outskirts of the wood, his rider sliding off, before taking off to join his brother in keeping the dead out. Danny gripped the dragonglass spear that had been slung over her back for the duration of the battle. The Ice dragon from before landed with a thud behind her, the rider not moving from his saddle.  
“They are by the Hearttree,” he said, “your beloved is there with his cousin,” he tossed her another blade still in its sheath, “You’ll need this, ill keep them away for now, but be quick,”  
The dragon spread its wings again and took off. Danny looked down at the blade, drawing it from its Sheath. It was Valyrian steel, it’s hilt was wrapped in black leather, of a kind and texture Danny had never seen before, the pommel and guard were both golden, the pommel depicting a flame, and the arms of the guard sprouted from the handle, waving like the flames in the pommel. An inscription along the centre of the blade read ‘Zōbrie mandia’, Old Valyrian for ‘Dark Sister’ Viserys told stories of this blade. An ancestral blade of her house lost for years, taken north by the Bloodraven upon Danny’s great-grandfather’s ascension the throne. Danny hefted the weapon in her hands, she had held Valyrian steel before, when Jon had shown her his blade ‘Longclaw’, but this was a lighter blade, meant for a woman, as Danny recalled, she could use this, she’d be no more skilled with this than the spear, but this would do.  
Danny trekked through the forest in silence, Dark Sister at her side, the sheath lay abandoned at the entrance, she had no need of it where she was going. Entering the clearing Danny was greeted by a sorry sight, Jon lay crumpled at the foot of the Hearttree, unconscious, Ghost standing by his body, baring his teeth in a silent growl, legs ready to pounce. The Night King standing about two feet away, Theon and Jorah standing between him and Bran on the other side of the clearing, Jorah was wielding the Greatsword Sam had given to him before the battle, Theon griped Longclaw in one hand and a shield in the other.  
Danny rushed to Jon’s side, reaching down and checked his pulse, he was alive, a quick glance told her one of his arms and a leg were broken. She was glad he was alive, but she could feel the anger roar inside her at his current state.  
The suddenly, his eyes shot open, but they didn’t show the beautiful grey eyes that Danny had come to adore, no his eyes were rolled into the top of his head, no colour was there. Almost instantaneously, Ghost’s behaviour changed, letting out an audible growl he stumbled to the side, before looking around and launching himself at the Whitewalker, who turned at the sound and swatted the dog away, his eyes falling on Danny, who griped her blade in apprehension.  
He swung down with his icy blade, Danny’s rose to meet it, letting out a loud CLANG, as they met. Jorah took that moment to strike, bringing the greatsword in a wide arc for the night king’s head. Time seemed to slow as the icy blade parried, before coming around again and slashing at Jorah’s gut.  
“NOOO!!” Danny screamed as blood sprayed everywhere, Jorah falling to his knees, Ghost leapt at the king again, and Theon swung with Longclaw, the Night king moved to block with one hand and swat Ghost away with the other. His back turned to Danny. Running on pure, unadulterated rage, Danny thrust forward, not really sure at what, but her blade found its place, deep in the Night King’s back. Danny wished she could see his face now, was that cold expression now one of shock, Danny wondered as she withdrew the bade, standing up before swinging Dark Sister with a cry, the Night King’s head rolled across the ground before disintegrating into shards of ice, his body following shortly after.  
“Jorah,” Danny whispered, running over to her friend, dark sister falling to the floor, he had collapsed face in the dirt. Kneeling by his side, Daenerys heaved him round, onto her knees.  
“Khaleesi,” He muttered weakly, blood pouring from the gash in his stomach, his eyes half open.  
“Don’t die on me Old Friend,” she said softly, a tear falling down her cheek.  
He chuckled softly “Khaleesi,” he said again, “Khaleesi, thank you,”  
“No, don’t do that,” Danny choked on her words. “Not now,”  
He smiled weakly, the life disappearing from his eyes, his body going limp. Danny let out a quiet sob as she lifted her hand and drew his eyelids shut.  
She looked up eyes full of tears Theon was sat at Jon side, “He’s still alive,” he said quietly, “his pulse is weak but he’s still alive,” He looked at Danny, his eyes full of sadness, “That was him you know,” pausing he looked back down at Jon, “Controlling Ghost, I saw Robb do it once,”  
There was a distant THUD of a dragon landing, a few moments later the Dragon rider from before appearing at the edge of the clearing. Anger filling her mind, Danny scooped up Dark Sister and marched over to the man and levelled the blade at his neck.  
The scarf that had covered his face was gone, leaving a hauntingly familiar face. He’s a Stark, Danny realized. He had the same long face, chiselled cheekbones, angled chin, same hair, of only darker. Danny had men enough of them to recognize their features. Apart from those eyes, he ticked every box in turn.  
“Who are you,” she muttered her voice dripping with anger.  
His eyebrows knitted together, “Your King lies unconscious on the ground and that is your question?” he asked. Danny only responded by pressing the blade harder into his neck, “Very well,” he placed a finger on the bade at his throat and pushed it to the side “I am the immortal offspring of the Night’s King, lord of the Nightfort, and a Whitewalker…”


End file.
